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"crucify" poems
Its a scam, its a scam, see the Crimson Gang deftly scamming them They by sleight have befuddled gullible masses Moral Compass Made them see wrong as right twisting their brains from the stem With deceitful guile they shepherded them all to the fools' campus Slander and fake News galore fed to vacant hungry masses scrum Knowledge is power the reprobates declares, do not let it pass We're the majority the bullies screams, knowing they're just scums Worthless charlatans who rob successes and **** without cutlass They take a foregone conclusion and coat it with fool's gold crumb A victim with no intention of going after an uninterested lass Dumb masses fed fake news fooled into harassing actions dumb A non-event becomes a show of the controlling might of our class Crimson gangs interpret a non-events from his deluded sad drum Creates a warped sick drama round a hapless victim for laughs Gives street theater actions to masses, these will oppose and numb Whilst poor victim subjected to 'voiding' madness wonders past The Crimson leaders laugh so much like pirates drinking *** Look how we manipulate the masses, they are so simple and crass With our devious twisting propaganda they eat out of our *** We simply use them to nail and crucify our victim to the cross
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Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
Together We Stand......
**** me like the ocean would the moon, Dear Amaranthine. Teach me as you would any abecedarian, slow with pace. My pallid arms are spread, and feet are crossed. Crucify me, like one of your French girls. Your endless frame arched over mine a vaulting testament to the heat of your front against my back. This scene should have been a chapel. Through hazed musk I can taste the saline as it tumbles from your dripping brunette tendrils forming brooks and lagoons the color of flesh in the glens and about the islands of my spine. I wish I could write about you in me while you dance a contemporary beat ceaseless, indeterminate, untold are your feats within and upon my person. For a split moment, seconds shattered in two, I am completely and totally permeated by you. I whine for you to vacillate me, I am ******* begging to be occupied, satiated, by a rhythm akin to the sway of trees. Love me fast and kiss me slow, Dear Amaranthine. My palms are red, and feet bloodied, too. I moan. Call me your poetaster but don't come on my chest; There's far too much weight there already, my dear.
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Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 1:30 AM UTC
Dear Amaranthine,
every time we fall in love, they call it trite, a false fairy tale. love is weak. and weak ain't trending no more. every time we speak our mind, they tell us to shut up, too young to have an opinion. the youth is unreliable, too many fresh hormones. every time we stand up straight, they cross us, crucify us. acquiescing is appropriate, they gift certificates in frames for that. every time we subscribe to a higher code of ethics, they call us radical, salivate, and spectate as we are torn asunder by lions. love should never transcend national pride, here it's guns, god, no homosexuals or mexicans all the time. if i make a stand, and you make a stand, and the dominoes begin to fall, if i inspire a dozen, and you inspire a thousand, the gears will grind, the tide will turn, the lions will all be too full, and they surely will run out of nails, before they've crossed every single one of us.
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Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 9:26 PM UTC
it's called culture (cross us/crucify us)
The end of the affair is always death. She's my workshop. Slippery eye, out of the tribe of myself my breath finds you gone. I horrify those who stand by. I am fed. At night, alone, I marry the bed. Finger to finger, now she's mine. She's not too far. She's my encounter. I beat her like a bell. I recline in the bower where you used to mount her. You borrowed me on the flowered spread. At night, alone, I marry the bed. Take for instance this night, my love, that every single couple puts together with a joint overturning, beneath, above, the abundant two on sponge and feather, kneeling and pushing, head to head. At night, alone, I marry the bed. I break out of my body this way, an annoying miracle. Could I put the dream market on display? I am spread out. I crucify. My little plum is what you said. At night, alone, I marry the bed. Then my black-eyed rival came. The lady of water, rising on the beach, a piano at her fingertips, shame on her lips and a flute's speech. And I was the knock-kneed broom instead. At night, alone, I marry the bed. She took you the way a women takes a bargain dress off the rack and I broke the way a stone breaks. I give back your books and fishing tack. Today's paper says that you are wed. At night, alone, I marry the bed. The boys and girls are one tonight. They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies. They take off shoes. They turn off the light. The glimmering creatures are full of lies. They are eating each other. They are overfed. At night, alone, I marry the bed.
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9.2k
The Ballad Of The Lonely Masturbator
The end of the affair is always death. She's my workshop. Slippery eye, out of the tribe of myself my breath finds you gone. I horrify those who stand by. I am fed. At night, alone, I marry the bed. Finger to finger, now she's mine. She's not too far. She's my encounter. I beat her like a bell. I recline in the bower where you used to mount her. You borrowed me on the flowered spread. At night, alone, I marry the bed. Take for instance this night, my love, that every single couple puts together with a joint overturning, beneath, above, the abundant two on sponge and feather, kneeling and pushing, head to head. At night, alone, I marry the bed. I break out of my body this way, an annoying miracle. Could I put the dream market on display? I am spread out. I crucify. My little plum is what you said. At night, alone, I marry the bed. Then my black-eyed rival came. The lady of water, rising on the beach, a piano at her fingertips, shame on her lips and a flute's speech. And I was the knock-kneed broom instead. At night, alone, I marry the bed. She took you the way a women takes a bargain dress off the rack and I broke the way a stone breaks. I give back your books and fishing tack. Today's paper says that you are wed. At night, alone, I marry the bed. The boys and girls are one tonight. They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies. They take off shoes. They turn off the light. The glimmering creatures are full of lies. They are eating each other. They are overfed. At night, alone, I marry the bed.
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42
Sometimes there’s a line that we have to respect because we can’t forget those who raised us made us Sometimes there’s a line we cannot ignore because of certain morals we were born with live within Sometimes there’s a line we shouldn’t cross, but do because of who we are as we don’t realize everyone’s line is measured differently. Sometimes there’s a line that nobody thought to cross until…someone does & then the masses either crucify or celebritize depending on pop-culture references. There’s always a line somewhere, we just have to choose where we want to be aligned.
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Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 8:41 PM UTC
a line
Worm eats through to penetrate. Trespasses, what ***** deeds? What ichor is this to venerate? How dare eat, how dare have needs? Godly viral load unbeatable, no t-cell left to count. Wriggling in puddle inconceivable, **** upon this crucified mount. Lazarus, risen from the dead, no dog now licks your wounds. Lepers now banshees are instead social workers which we swoon. And the Roman laws and judges continue blame, hand down sentence, as degenerative generation smudges out from existence, *** penance. Dissected and pinned against wall, this writhing experiment oozes. Whilst priests and politicians naw, compassion and AIDS funding loses.
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
Crucify The Worm
Tradition! The Pope's Grand Inquisitor And Champion of Tories and White-Hats alike Long have we burned by Gomorrah's Sponsor With ***** salt our Nails to crucify That you by nature have never been wrong Since from my origin I took Respect But that Pink Exercise training that strong Was too much for your Pride to interpret So you sent your Armies to **** our Cause, Those Innocent Seeds we died to preserve Quoting the Organ's Functions as our fault Then getting the Whipping we all deserve. My Message, kind Sir, is that Object Which you must Observe; Which you must Reflect.
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - SEVENTY - TOM DALEY
mr moonlight mr nowhere maxwell edison mr jones dr robert sgt pepper mr kite, bb king edgar allen poe walter raleigh mat busby the hendersons and maggie mae mr mustard captain marvel rita lucy jojo vera chuck and dave mother nature polethene pam mr heath doris day and buffalo bill loretta martin **** sadie hey jude eggman my michelle rigby and pilchard or elenor and semolina took father mckenzie too see a dancing horse henry his name was rocky raccoon was there prudence rode elephant to the i me mine waltz --- There gonna crucify me the way things go christ it aint easy the next day dont know you know the walrus was paul man johns bird can sing george was a genie ringo wore a ring but paul is dead now george stole his soul john is alive though ringos in a hole her royal highness the tax man commit the perfect crime she asked for more with a belly full of wine
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
Beetles
We entered the holy city with palm branches to welcome Parading in as they sang 'Hosanna!' They honored Him as if He were their king As if He had come to set them free Oh how right they were, the Promised King, come to set His people free We shared in communion with the Lord and the betrayer On the eve of the darkest day in history Hate brewed at one end of that table While love stirred peacefully on the other And all of us living in blissful ignorance in between We celebrated the passover with our master And we prayed that The Lord would not pass over us again That instead He would stoop down to us and save us But we denied Him in His hour of need We slept soundly as He was betrayed by us Like a lamb led to the slaughter, He gave His life for another They beat Him within inches of His divine life They cast lots for his garments, and spit on His bloodied face No longer did they yell 'Hosanna!' to welcome their king, But they yelled 'crucify him!' to condemn their Divine Lord They drove nails into his frail hands He cried out to heaven asking why The Lord had forsaken Him He declared in defiance ‘It is finished’ and He passed on to death They threw a sword into his swollen side His holy blood and holy water spilled to sanctify the earth onto which it fell So silly they were, they thought that they could **** God That they really believed they could depose the Lord of all with mere nails But the sky darkened, and heaven turned away as to not see her Lord die The earth shook and the world changed Suddenly all knew 'surely this man was the Son of God' The once bright and beautiful sky turned suddenly dark The earth shook violently in disapproval that her creator lay dead on her face The warm humid air turned suddenly bitterly cold and dry For the promised Messiah had been defeated Death itself had victory over the world, and the world knew it was so There, on the cross, lay the Life of the World, dead The Light of the World had been snuffed out, and the world left in darkness The hope of all mankind suddenly vanished The steady hand holding the world wavered in mourning And darkness covered the seemingly God-forsaken earth Who are we at the foot of the cross that stood silently? We stood by and watched the promised Messiah be taken away and killed We reap what we sew, and will now live out our days in darkness Without hope we shall suffer for all time, a punishment fit for our crime We crucified the Messiah, we gave the Lord to death, we killed God For three days the sun did not rise For three days the world swayed unstable The demons danced in the darkness Hell was victorious Because for three days, God lay dead in a tomb.
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:19 PM UTC
Darkness: A Good Friday Poem
We entered the holy city with palm branches to welcome Parading in as they sang 'Hosanna!' They honored Him as if He were their king As if He had come to set them free Oh how right they were, the Promised King, come to set His people free We shared in communion with the Lord and the betrayer On the eve of the darkest day in history Hate brewed at one end of that table While love stirred peacefully on the other And all of us living in blissful ignorance in between We celebrated the passover with our master And we prayed that The Lord would not pass over us again That instead He would stoop down to us and save us But we denied Him in His hour of need We slept soundly as He was betrayed by us Like a lamb led to the slaughter, He gave His life for another They beat Him within inches of His divine life They cast lots for his garments, and spit on His bloodied face No longer did they yell 'Hosanna!' to welcome their king, But they yelled 'crucify him!' to condemn their Divine Lord They drove nails into his frail hands He cried out to heaven asking why The Lord had forsaken Him He declared in defiance ‘It is finished’ and He passed on to death They threw a sword into his swollen side His holy blood and holy water spilled to sanctify the earth onto which it fell So silly they were, they thought that they could **** God That they really believed they could depose the Lord of all with mere nails But the sky darkened, and heaven turned away as to not see her Lord die The earth shook and the world changed Suddenly all knew 'surely this man was the Son of God' The once bright and beautiful sky turned suddenly dark The earth shook violently in disapproval that her creator lay dead on her face The warm humid air turned suddenly bitterly cold and dry For the promised Messiah had been defeated Death itself had victory over the world, and the world knew it was so There, on the cross, lay the Life of the World, dead The Light of the World had been snuffed out, and the world left in darkness The hope of all mankind suddenly vanished The steady hand holding the world wavered in mourning And darkness covered the seemingly God-forsaken earth Who are we at the foot of the cross that stood silently? We stood by and watched the promised Messiah be taken away and killed We reap what we sew, and will now live out our days in darkness Without hope we shall suffer for all time, a punishment fit for our crime We crucified the Messiah, we gave the Lord to death, we killed God For three days the sun did not rise For three days the world swayed unstable The demons danced in the darkness Hell was victorious Because for three days, God lay dead in a tomb.
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50
Where did all the heroes go? Mothers, Sisters losing faith in Lovers undercover of ego-- *in a club bought some bud          drop the cash five more stacks see the girl                       talk the pearl show the bling                               reign her in talk the trash                            false and rash-- and if a Man dare arise--                                      when he takes the lead will they                                                                                      crucify or heed,                                            his rationally wise                                                                               and                                                                                   soft spoken creed?* What do heroes really know?
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Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 5:01 PM UTC
The State of Manhood
If we lived in a non-judgmental world, where social norm were a blank slate free of preconceptions and expectations, a world in which it was traditional to be liberal, what would you do? Would you work this hard or drive fast cars? Would you read 50 Shades of Grey in the train? Would you still cry in the rain? Would you be outgoing or spend more time alone? Would you laugh at funerals and never mourn? Would you wear your pyjamas for Sunday mass? Would you identify yourself with the working class? Would you use two forks or wear socks with flip flops? Would you avoid dating jocks? Would you take up smoking or marry young? Would you tattoo your face and pierce your tongue? Would you work as a stripper whilst being a nun? Would you form a jihad against wars and guns? Would you become straight, forget how to pray or wish your first born son were gay? Would you ever fake an ****** or admit you like it rough? Would you follow the stars and lucky charms leaving all life's decisions to luck? Would you believe in evolution and gravity, or argue we're heavy people with sticky feet? Would you avoid salad or order tofu? Would you try to go up a dress size or two? Would you give to charity or take up a sport? Would you sell your house and buy a boat? Would you order expensive wines or write poems that did not rhyme? What would you do? Perhaps you simply wouldn't have a clue, for we appear to have forgotten how to be true. So when ever a Miley comes like a wrecking ball we unite to share our disbelief and loathe. As we did to Snowden and Jesus Christ, we mock and torture and crucify. The UN, CIA and the Vatican unite, to teach us how to lead our lives. For when someone somewhere breaks a norm that someone somewhere has formed it has become a universal priority for the former to be conformed. Perhaps in this non-judgmental world, we might decide to start judging each other...
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Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
*******
If we lived in a non-judgmental world, where social norm were a blank slate free of preconceptions and expectations, a world in which it was traditional to be liberal, what would you do? Would you work this hard or drive fast cars? Would you read 50 Shades of Grey in the train? Would you still cry in the rain? Would you be outgoing or spend more time alone? Would you laugh at funerals and never mourn? Would you wear your pyjamas for Sunday mass? Would you identify yourself with the working class? Would you use two forks or wear socks with flip flops? Would you avoid dating jocks? Would you take up smoking or marry young? Would you tattoo your face and pierce your tongue? Would you work as a stripper whilst being a nun? Would you form a jihad against wars and guns? Would you become straight, forget how to pray or wish your first born son were gay? Would you ever fake an ****** or admit you like it rough? Would you follow the stars and lucky charms leaving all life's decisions to luck? Would you believe in evolution and gravity, or argue we're heavy people with sticky feet? Would you avoid salad or order tofu? Would you try to go up a dress size or two? Would you give to charity or take up a sport? Would you sell your house and buy a boat? Would you order expensive wines or write poems that did not rhyme? What would you do? Perhaps you simply wouldn't have a clue, for we appear to have forgotten how to be true. So when ever a Miley comes like a wrecking ball we unite to share our disbelief and loathe. As we did to Snowden and Jesus Christ, we mock and torture and crucify. The UN, CIA and the Vatican unite, to teach us how to lead our lives. For when someone somewhere breaks a norm that someone somewhere has formed it has become a universal priority for the former to be conformed. Perhaps in this non-judgmental world, we might decide to start judging each other...
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47
The Terrorist Do you know What terror is? Terror rising Like the threat level News televising Different views Like Christian or Hindu Muslim or Jew How many Satanist Crashed planes in Places containing Millions? Murders of a martyr Muttering under his breath Not before a jump From a building But before Walking through its doors Trench coat Drenched in sweat No words spoken But the name Of a God à la God Allah! Alas A last breath And a final moment Gives a button A fast press Blast! Explosions Cold as the Look he gave Before he left On his quest Like a crusader Crusading a nonbeliever Then crucify If you try To stay true to self Well, take me As I am And know I never claim to know I worship nothing That creates war, Whether real Or not.
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Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 4:02 PM UTC
The Terrorist
In the year 3131 They come to devour our suns Terrible, godlike, interstellar giants Inconceivable beyond all reason and science. Humanity and all her colonies, Divided amongst the galaxies, Finally united once and for all For our race dare not fall! To eliminate the threat of annihilation We constructed planet-sized stations That house massive and powerful guns To protect and defend our vulnerable suns. As our fears vanished behind us Those in control sought to rebind us For systems of authority never change, Not even with pervasive freedom in range. With the powerful distracted by their lust, For control over every speck of dust, There emerged a demented cult That believes our race is at fault, And beings that come from above Do so out of divine, parental love. These naive and delusional zealots, Inspired by avarice long embellished, By a ruthless society lacking empathy, Have developed an ever enduring apathy. Seeking to destroy our only defenses, They mount violent and ****** offensives, Their rugged, disorderly fleets crucify As humanity is unable to reunify. However, there is another cooperative effort, A last stand, self-organized endeavor, This vigilante group battles cultist detestables They call themselves The Solar Sentinels. Bound by a principled, passionate collaboration, The Solar Sentinels defend all people and nations, Engineers and military minds come together To ensure our survival and prosper, whatsoever. Now, one existential question remains: Will humanity break free of its chains, Awaken, realize that we are all one, Disregard old orders and save our suns?
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
THE SOLAR SENTINELS
In the year 3131 They come to devour our suns Terrible, godlike, interstellar giants Inconceivable beyond all reason and science. Humanity and all her colonies, Divided amongst the galaxies, Finally united once and for all For our race dare not fall! To eliminate the threat of annihilation We constructed planet-sized stations That house massive and powerful guns To protect and defend our vulnerable suns. As our fears vanished behind us Those in control sought to rebind us For systems of authority never change, Not even with pervasive freedom in range. With the powerful distracted by their lust, For control over every speck of dust, There emerged a demented cult That believes our race is at fault, And beings that come from above Do so out of divine, parental love. These naive and delusional zealots, Inspired by avarice long embellished, By a ruthless society lacking empathy, Have developed an ever enduring apathy. Seeking to destroy our only defenses, They mount violent and ****** offensives, Their rugged, disorderly fleets crucify As humanity is unable to reunify. However, there is another cooperative effort, A last stand, self-organized endeavor, This vigilante group battles cultist detestables They call themselves The Solar Sentinels. Bound by a principled, passionate collaboration, The Solar Sentinels defend all people and nations, Engineers and military minds come together To ensure our survival and prosper, whatsoever. Now, one existential question remains: Will humanity break free of its chains, Awaken, realize that we are all one, Disregard old orders and save our suns?
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42
313 I should have been too glad, I see— Too lifted—for the scant degree Of Life’s penurious Round— My little Circuit would have shamed This new Circumference—have blamed— The homelier time behind. I should have been too saved—I see— Too rescued—Fear too dim to me That I could spell the Prayer I knew so perfect—yesterday— That Scalding One—Sabachthani— Recited fluent—here— Earth would have been too much—I see— And Heaven—not enough for me— I should have had the Joy Without the Fear—to justify— The Palm—without the Calvary— So Savior—Crucify— Defeat—whets Victory—they say— The Reefs—in old Gethsemane— Endear the Coast—beyond! ’Tis Beggars—Banquets—can define— ’Tis Parching—vitalizes Wine— “Faith” bleats—to understand!
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2.5k
I should have been too glad, I see
I'm from apple pies and endless blue skies. A world that's plastered with sweets and smiles that are backwards. I'm from stagnant desks that smell grotesque. Schools that steal children's thoughts. A place where all your free will rots. I'm from a house seemingly warm but inside lays a giant storm. Yells and cries fill the walls while the skeleton of hope fills the halls. I'm from a place that hates every "F" I obtain. But with an "A" what would I gain? Just some fake encouragement to make me vain. I'm from "Hallelujah" to crucify ya. "Worship me or to hell you go" But how would they even know? I'm from backyard playing under the sun until my friends deemed it no longer fun. Canceled plans; left alone have turned my gooey heart into stone. I'm from broken mirrors to cover up my fears; to hide my reflection and hope that I won't see my new direction. I'm from the ending but I'm not from the beginning I'm just a finish to this puzzle. I am the end.
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Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 6:05 PM UTC
From the End
*sailing on the blue-sea sailing unknown-beauty*.. 1. the seas laugh in raucous-hacks as the waves cough up the corpses of my dreams at my feet, they come in from the swell of tides seeming no more than                     spongy sea-weed with sun-skin points                     bloated fish who didn't make it                     swollen seals with child and the blue-boy on the whale's back confident-smiles draped upon his demeanour like a well-worn cloak of old-comfort soft and velvety secrets hide inside the folds of his true-age and pure-soul nobody would believe              how many trips he had to make to get to this shore              how many deaths he had to live through to understand the purpose              how many tears he saw shedding of nature's total-patience              how many of so much.. 2. on the back of a whale he traverses the width of seas                       the span of lands                       the points of stars                       the truth of man and he grieves the piteous-souls whose backs break so hard on the interminable-wheel of penitence turning and grinding                       grinding                       grinding.. always bent upon that gauntlet-grind if they but knew how futile the turn.. carrying loads of mercy and goodness only to see it seep out wounds ere journey's end 3. cruel deified-laughter exists not at man's readiness to crucify hope with such four-square certainty that redemption lies in suffering.. oh no.. 4. faint sounds of laughter on a broad-coast whose sands give way to shy-dossiers of nature's confidence in the evening sun secrets that I neglected to see.. first time round have I failed myself.. ? (but not again) when awareness taps one on the shoulder, is it not utter-folly to turn one's back on resplendence that all the leaves and seas are willing to share? *true-beauty lies in covert-blossoms and opened-eyes and saying.. yes when the sun-breeze dawns* S T - sunnyday, 24 Nov 2013
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Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
on the whale's back
*sailing on the blue-sea sailing unknown-beauty*.. 1. the seas laugh in raucous-hacks as the waves cough up the corpses of my dreams at my feet, they come in from the swell of tides seeming no more than                     spongy sea-weed with sun-skin points                     bloated fish who didn't make it                     swollen seals with child and the blue-boy on the whale's back confident-smiles draped upon his demeanour like a well-worn cloak of old-comfort soft and velvety secrets hide inside the folds of his true-age and pure-soul nobody would believe              how many trips he had to make to get to this shore              how many deaths he had to live through to understand the purpose              how many tears he saw shedding of nature's total-patience              how many of so much.. 2. on the back of a whale he traverses the width of seas                       the span of lands                       the points of stars                       the truth of man and he grieves the piteous-souls whose backs break so hard on the interminable-wheel of penitence turning and grinding                       grinding                       grinding.. always bent upon that gauntlet-grind if they but knew how futile the turn.. carrying loads of mercy and goodness only to see it seep out wounds ere journey's end 3. cruel deified-laughter exists not at man's readiness to crucify hope with such four-square certainty that redemption lies in suffering.. oh no.. 4. faint sounds of laughter on a broad-coast whose sands give way to shy-dossiers of nature's confidence in the evening sun secrets that I neglected to see.. first time round have I failed myself.. ? (but not again) when awareness taps one on the shoulder, is it not utter-folly to turn one's back on resplendence that all the leaves and seas are willing to share? *true-beauty lies in covert-blossoms and opened-eyes and saying.. yes when the sun-breeze dawns* S T - sunnyday, 24 Nov 2013
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62
It was never my intention to place you in harms way. Enlisting your heart to trouble after we kissed on that precious day. As time elapsed, my heart took a moment to understand. You were portraying your earnest emotions subtly then crass. The turmoil you must’ve felt during the time you kept to yourself… Causing you to experience agonizing despair while delving into mournful swells… Find it in your heart to forgive these third degree burns. For it was never my intention to crucify your kind soul. My love yearns to romanticize unhurriedly, Seducing passionately while intimately feeding the soul so fluidly. Is it too much to ask for an amorous exploration? For what is love without a genuine vibration? If *** is all you seek, Be explicitly direct; don’t play games that will cause deceit. Otherwise, in the end, ambivalent emotions will prevail. Crafting a false sense of endearment that will soon be too much for you to bear. I once journeyed to a crucible of love and hate. Traveling far beyond the unfathomable depths of heartache. Hopelessly exiled to endure the slowest of brutalizing pains; A light was discovered, allowing the abhorrence to dissipate. By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
My Lady...
* *PART I Let the world be - against our LOVE Let the society also be so - against our LOVE Let the laws, rules, regulations be - against our LOVE Let the religions, scriptures, gurus be - against our LOVE Let our friends, colleagues and Family, relatives be - against our LOVE Let even YOU and me be - against our LOVE Let them be, Let us be.. Let everyone be - against our LOVE Yet it is NOT going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART II Every "against" is just a gray smoke Trying to pretend to be a blue sky "They"- the one who are against LOVE If they are eager to crucify Jesus If they are eager to lynch Mansoor If they are eager to poison Meera If they are eager to throw LOVERz In the pyre of FIRE Remember this... The air around us is "LOVE" The whole world shall burn In the grief of two LOVERz flames So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART III We all know, we all know That the enemies of LOVE are many They are educated, smart, intelligent Powerful, leaders and identity groups etc. Those who can reason, argue & debate, Rationalize with practicality & pragmatism But they do not even have a heart To feel the trueness & purity of our LOVE So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART IV What comes out of our LOVE Is the most Powerful & Almighty NATURE LOVE in my heart - is not ruled by anyone LOVE in YOUR heart - is not ruled by anyone LOVE in our heart - is "OUR" LOVE It is not even ruled by us So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART V Today those who pretend to be masters Today those who pretend to be leaders Today those who pretend to be gurus Those who pretend to "I know it ALL" They won't be here tomorrow to live They are only passengers of life Traveling illegally without tickets Because they are living without LOVE So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART VI Do not forget, Do not forget LOVE has taken centuries It has taken ages From the garden of Eden Where Adam - Eve ate the apple Since Romeo-Zuliet died When Layla-Majnun wailed in longing LOVERz have poured their breathe Into every living thing on earth So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART VII The breath you take is of LOVE The breath I take is of LOVE The breath the whole world takes is of LOVE Who are we to say "YES" and "NO" to LOVE? LOVE does not even take our permissions So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART VIII LOVE is not even this moment "NOW" LOVE is not a slave of any constitution LOVE can't be imprisoned in any identities: Religious, regions, gender, caste, Class, society, color, race, age etc. LOVE is not owned by anyone LOVE is not even owned by LOVERz So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE"* *
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Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 11:35 PM UTC
So Don't Worry..
* *PART I Let the world be - against our LOVE Let the society also be so - against our LOVE Let the laws, rules, regulations be - against our LOVE Let the religions, scriptures, gurus be - against our LOVE Let our friends, colleagues and Family, relatives be - against our LOVE Let even YOU and me be - against our LOVE Let them be, Let us be.. Let everyone be - against our LOVE Yet it is NOT going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART II Every "against" is just a gray smoke Trying to pretend to be a blue sky "They"- the one who are against LOVE If they are eager to crucify Jesus If they are eager to lynch Mansoor If they are eager to poison Meera If they are eager to throw LOVERz In the pyre of FIRE Remember this... The air around us is "LOVE" The whole world shall burn In the grief of two LOVERz flames So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART III We all know, we all know That the enemies of LOVE are many They are educated, smart, intelligent Powerful, leaders and identity groups etc. Those who can reason, argue & debate, Rationalize with practicality & pragmatism But they do not even have a heart To feel the trueness & purity of our LOVE So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART IV What comes out of our LOVE Is the most Powerful & Almighty NATURE LOVE in my heart - is not ruled by anyone LOVE in YOUR heart - is not ruled by anyone LOVE in our heart - is "OUR" LOVE It is not even ruled by us So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART V Today those who pretend to be masters Today those who pretend to be leaders Today those who pretend to be gurus Those who pretend to "I know it ALL" They won't be here tomorrow to live They are only passengers of life Traveling illegally without tickets Because they are living without LOVE So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART VI Do not forget, Do not forget LOVE has taken centuries It has taken ages From the garden of Eden Where Adam - Eve ate the apple Since Romeo-Zuliet died When Layla-Majnun wailed in longing LOVERz have poured their breathe Into every living thing on earth So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART VII The breath you take is of LOVE The breath I take is of LOVE The breath the whole world takes is of LOVE Who are we to say "YES" and "NO" to LOVE? LOVE does not even take our permissions So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE" PART VIII LOVE is not even this moment "NOW" LOVE is not a slave of any constitution LOVE can't be imprisoned in any identities: Religious, regions, gender, caste, Class, society, color, race, age etc. LOVE is not owned by anyone LOVE is not even owned by LOVERz So don't worry, it is not going to be "The end of our LOVE"* *
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***looking for my savior to undo me under the rubble of victims remission my chained heart nailed to a cross lust'd sheets beneath the ***** streets crucify myself lookin' for imprinted adoration little earthquakes of my soul unload'd save me from myself and these blood tears my heart thunders like a roller coaster ride, struggle to captivate your poetic prowess never good enough to leave my impassioned stain severe'd connections in feeble breath's wake washed away in torrents within ocean's depth castles crumble in the chaos of my mindless muse***
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Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
Crucified Little Earthquakes
“Get ‘em up, Teacher.” I felt the gun at my back and had no choice but to raise fingers, and said, “Got the drop on me, eh, Judas? Why don’t you pull the trigger?” “Forget it. We’re going to Jerusalem where I’m going to turn you over to Herod. Pilate’s holding my gang and God knows what he’s doing to make them talk—only they don’t know anything, so they can’t talk. He’s torturing them for nothing but everybody knows the only thing he wants is to get his hands on you. I’m going to see that he does. That will get him to cut loose my boys and take the heat off me too, see? It’ll be all over the papers when they crucify you.” “And what will the papers say about you? You don’t know what you’re doing, Judas. Do you think the Romans will let your outfit run the territory?” “Sure they will.” “You’ll run it all right—run it right into the ground. You’re not ready for the big dominion, Judas. You’d be getting in over your head.” “Quiet.” “You know Herod gets his marching orders from Pilate and Pilate takes his orders from Caesar. Where do you fit in? You’re high and mighty now but those boys will wipe their boots on you and keep right on going. I didn’t come back to get served up on a silver platter. I came to dish it out. Nobody’s going to step on me and get away with it.”   “Quiet, I said. Now move,” he prodded with his pistol. I walked a little but stayed close to the walls and he shoved me from behind to make me go faster, but he didn’t want me going too fast because that would attract attention. He called out to the shadows, “Simon!” There was no answer and he got nervous. “Simon,” he repeated, not wanting to yell out loud. He looked back and forth, taking his eyes off me for a second. I dropped, and swiping a foot beneath his legs toppled him to the ground. The pistol went off and ricocheted off the wall and I kicked the gun from his hand. Simon appeared with his hands held high, the Baptist behind him pushing him along with the business end of his rod. “What do you want to do with them, Teacher?” I felt sorry for the saps. They weren’t any better off than when they’d started.
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
gangs of Jerusalem [Judas Iscariot: double-crosser]
“Get ‘em up, Teacher.” I felt the gun at my back and had no choice but to raise fingers, and said, “Got the drop on me, eh, Judas? Why don’t you pull the trigger?” “Forget it. We’re going to Jerusalem where I’m going to turn you over to Herod. Pilate’s holding my gang and God knows what he’s doing to make them talk—only they don’t know anything, so they can’t talk. He’s torturing them for nothing but everybody knows the only thing he wants is to get his hands on you. I’m going to see that he does. That will get him to cut loose my boys and take the heat off me too, see? It’ll be all over the papers when they crucify you.” “And what will the papers say about you? You don’t know what you’re doing, Judas. Do you think the Romans will let your outfit run the territory?” “Sure they will.” “You’ll run it all right—run it right into the ground. You’re not ready for the big dominion, Judas. You’d be getting in over your head.” “Quiet.” “You know Herod gets his marching orders from Pilate and Pilate takes his orders from Caesar. Where do you fit in? You’re high and mighty now but those boys will wipe their boots on you and keep right on going. I didn’t come back to get served up on a silver platter. I came to dish it out. Nobody’s going to step on me and get away with it.”   “Quiet, I said. Now move,” he prodded with his pistol. I walked a little but stayed close to the walls and he shoved me from behind to make me go faster, but he didn’t want me going too fast because that would attract attention. He called out to the shadows, “Simon!” There was no answer and he got nervous. “Simon,” he repeated, not wanting to yell out loud. He looked back and forth, taking his eyes off me for a second. I dropped, and swiping a foot beneath his legs toppled him to the ground. The pistol went off and ricocheted off the wall and I kicked the gun from his hand. Simon appeared with his hands held high, the Baptist behind him pushing him along with the business end of his rod. “What do you want to do with them, Teacher?” I felt sorry for the saps. They weren’t any better off than when they’d started.
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Love was universally patterned , Eyes as if entry to a new galaxy , floating to her milky way, kissing her every axis , body soothing silky wave . She, the goddess of beauty & love , architect of my universe. Meditate, mind orbit to her passion, soul waiting for reincarnation. Being disciple ,timorous to fall, prayer was granted ,judgment day call. Oh lord ,crucify me, listen to what I say , reborn me as a god or start humanitarianism way . She turned into human in eve full moon , she could'nt wait, ran after me soon. Then behind the blueberry fountain silver light , i kissed her deep blue eyes, and hold on sight by sight , moments of our exotic zeal. some love never ends, some ends in a new beginning. By MAHI-Galaxy www.mahadin.co.uk
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 11:30 AM UTC
"Some Love never Ends"
A man was crucified. He came to the city a stranger, was accused, and nailed to a cross. He lingered hanging. Laughed at the crowd. "The nails are iron," he said, "You are cheap. In my country when we crucify we use silver nails..." So he went jeering. They did not understand him at first. Later they talked about him in changed voices in the saloons, bowling alleys, and churches. It came over them every man is crucified only once in his life and the law of humanity dictates silver nails be used for the job. A statue was erected to him in a public square. Not having gathered his name when he was among them, they wrote him as John Silvernail on the statue.
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2k
Silver Nails
Decapitate, disembowel, tear and mutilate! Schizophrenic!Psychedelic twisted mind! Expedite, liberate, Alienate then recreate Masonic!Prolific piece of mind! Sabotage, besiege, flank to infiltrate! Victorious!Strategic tyrannic mind! Crucify, liquify, impale bleed them dry! Torturous!Barbaric, sadistic mind! Derange, insane, crazy and mental! Hallucinating!Polysyllabic demented mind! Disturbed, diabolic, vile and fatal! Parasitic!Infected infested mind!
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
Insanitarium
Do you know What terror is? Terror rising Like the threat level News televising Different views Like Christian or Hindu Muslim. How many Satanist Crashed planes in Places containing Millions? Murders of a martyr Muttering under his breath Not before a jump From a building But before Walking through its doors Trench coat Drenched in sweat No words spoken But the name Of a God à la God Alas A last breath And a final moment Gives a button A fast press Blast! Explosions Cold as the Look he gave Before he left On his quest Like a crusader Crusading a nonbeliever Then crucify If you try To stay true to self Well, take me As I am And know I will never claim to know I worship nothing That creates war, Whether real Or not.
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Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
The Terrorist